What Is A Name
by KissKissBiteBite
Summary: With a name like "Stane," you don't go unnoticed. OC(Obadiah Stane's Daughter)/Clint Barton (Hawkeye)/Steve Rogers (Captain America)/Loki
1. Chapter 1

Tatiana Leigh Stane.

It is just a name. Just three silly little words.

They shouldn't carry that much weight.

But with a last name like "Stane" you can't just go unnoticed.

Obadiah Stane was her father. Her mother had been a Senator's daughter who met him at a charity gala for a night and 9 months later Tatiana arrived. Her mother basically forced Obadiah to take full custody. She was busy furthering her own political career and a baby would only slow her down – it had been a miracle the press hadn't spotted her baby bump.

Obadiah was never meant to be a father. Tatiana supposed he gave it his best though. He bought her toys, made sure she had the best nannies, went to the best schools, and were well dressed.

But being shipped off to a prestigious boarding school in Maine didn't exactly scream paternal love. And when she came back home to California for holiday breaks with cuts, scrapes, and bruises covering almost every inch of her skin, he'd call the school but the bullies didn't stop. From fourth grade until eleventh, she was the brunt of all the bad jokes and she was pretty sure she knew which toilets the janitors didn't clean properly. The bullies' excuses ranged from her father having more money than theirs, her red hair wasn't cut right, her green eyes weren't pretty, she was too fat, she was too smart (it didn't gain her any friends or favors when she started high school at the age of 9), and she didn't let them cheat off of her on exams. And it didn't help that she was just so damn awkward. On and on it went.

But the summer before her senior year started, her father had had enough. He called Tony Stark and Colonel Rhodes for advice. Both of the men had been present during Tatiana's tumultuous childhood and had been other failed father figures. They pointed her father towards the exclusive Hapkido training facility by her father's large Malibu estate.

For three months, Tatiana went there every day. She tightened her jiggling fat and learned how to defend herself. Her trainers had actually been impressed with how driven she was. She wasn't a prodigy, but she was close. They patted her on the back on the day she was to return to Maine and said they were proud. She actually felt like they were proud. Their tone didn't have the same emptiness that her father's did. When he said he was proud of her it sounded like he was saying it out of compulsion.

Thankfully her acne had cleared for the most part and the stylist her father had hired had insisted on a haircut before she arrived back on campus.

Senior year was easier. But she was more than thankful when she finally curtsied after her valedictorian speech and accepted her diploma.

And the four years she spent at Brown studying International Relations went even better. She made a few friends, attempted to get to know people, became a bit of a social person.

Tony and her father attended her graduation. Both were smiling. Probably for different reasoning.

"My little girl," he hugged her and Tony laughed at her uncomfortable expression. He knew that she felt her father's hugs felt terse or forced. She had let it slip when she was visiting Tony when she was in fourth grade. "I'm so proud of you!" Obadiah said.

"Thanks, Dad," she murmured, trying to juggle her mortar board and degree in her hands as the hug broke. The pictures were over awhile ago – and she was thankful. The hug had essentially ruined the curls she had spent hours trying to perfect before the ceremony.

Pepper Potts – who had become a sort of surrogate mother to Tatiana – giggled and took the items away from her so Tony could wrap Tatiana in a hug and kiss her cheek. "Good job, kiddo."

"Thank you, Uncle Tony."

Pepper very nearly pushed her cap and degree into Tony's arms so she could wrap the younger woman in a tight hug. "Oh! My little Tatiana, I am so proud." She held the red head at arm's length and teared up the slightest bit.

"No tears!" Tatiana chided with a smile.

"I have a surprise for you," Pepper said. "Actually, it's from me _and_ Mister Stark." Pepper pulled out a small velvet case as she pretended to not notice Tony's surprised look.

Tatiana knew that he always forgot gifts.

She took the box and opened it. A car key was laying a top a tiny silk pillow. The Mercedes-Benz logo was gleaming. "A BENZ?!" Tatiana quickly pulled Tony and Pepper into a hug as she clutched the key in her hand so hard she was sure it was bleeding. "Thank you so much!" Even though she was now 17, her father had yet to get her a car of any kind.

Obadiah's chuckle behind Tatiana pulled her attention as Pepper quickly tucked Tatiana's cap and degree into her large purse. "I have a surprise for you too," Obadiah said.

"What is it?" Tatiana asked, still rubbing herr fingers over the ridges of the new key.

Obadiah's smile widened before he pulled a name plate from his pocket. Tatiana Stane was etched into the glistening silver surface. Below her name was "Head of Global Weapons Positioning – Stark Industries."

"But…Mr. Histon is Head of the Global Weapons Positioning Department at Stark Industries."

He dropped the name plate into her hands and continued to smile. "Histon retired last week. The job is yours."

"I-"

"Just say thank you!" Her father laughed. But she knew his patience was wearing thin. It always did when she didn't readily accept a gift.

"Thank you," she said as she pushed a smile to her face and hugged him again.

Taking the name plate from her hands and tucking it into the large bag, Pepper managed to smile and say, "Come on, we have dinner reservations."

* * *

It had been three years since Tatiana started working at Stark Industries. Those working under her in the Global Weapons Positioning Department eventually warmed to her after she made it quite clear she didn't ask her father for the job – and they stopped putting salt in her tea instead of sugar, too. At the age of 20, Tatiana had accomplished more than most of her peers would have hoped to have accomplished by age 50. But she was close to burning out.

Tatiana planned how the next shipment of weapons would get to the buyers from the various weapons manufacturing plants Stark Industries had around the globe. She had to deal with hijackings. Broken missiles. Angry Customers. And delusional terrorists who would try to steal the weapons.

And herr least favorite part, but really the only reason why she was _good_ at her job, was meeting with the clients and making sure that everything went smoothly. She had to train those below her how to act in different cultures.

If the client was offended, they could take their business elsewhere.

It would be stupid to do so – but they could do it.

Right now, she was flying on a jet with a few of her assistants and a small military escort to Afghanistan to help Tony Stark with the presentation of the Jericho Missile. Tony asked for Tatiana personally to accompany him on the trip – he knew she liked the travelling aspect of her job (just not the meeting people part). He also knew how she detested that her father decided her itinerary on these business trips, so Tony made sure it was kept off Obadiah's desk and radar.

"More tea?" The stewardess asked. A toothy smile had pulled across her face. The steaming kettle was placed atop her trolley.

"Uh, sure. Thank you." Tatiana handed over her teacup as the soldier beside her chuckled. "What?" She asked as she took back the cup. "Can I have milk and four sugars, please?" she directed towards the retreating stewardess before turning back towards the soldier. "What's so funny?"

"That's your fifth cup."

A hum of agreement came from her personal assistant on the other side of the jet's cabin.

"You know how I need as much caffeine as I can get when dealing with Stark." Tatiana attempted to defend herself as she poured milk and four sugar packets into her cup.

Her personal assistant chuckled and turned the page in her magazine causing her to sink into her chair.

* * *

"I almost forgot that Afghanistan was hot."

Tatiana chuckled at the soldier's comment and nudged his arm slightly as she slid sunglasses over her eyes. "C'mon. Mister Stark will be here soon." She let the soldiers escort her and her assistants toward the designated meeting area in the middle of the desert. People in black suits dotted the crowd, standing out amongst the soldiers in their uniforms. She thought nothing of it, knowing Stark usually sent his entourage ahead of him when he travelled.

"Miss Stane?" She turned and saw a man in a dark suit and darker sunglasses suddenly standing behind her. Her personal assistant gasped, not hearing him approach either.

"Yes?" she replied, slightly weary. Usually Tony's entourage and hers didn't interact unless there was something really, really wrong. "Did Mister Stark send you?"

The man's upper lip twitched in what she suspected was a smile. "Not exactly. My name is Phil Coulson. I'm-"

Tony's late arrival cut off Coulson's introduction. "I'm so sorry, Mister Coulson. But could we pick this up after the presentation?" She smiled and the man nodded before she stepped up to Tony's side.

"Good to see you, Tatiana," he said, wrapping her in a brief hug and kissing her cheek.

"You're late, Mister Stark," she chided, trying to keep a smile off her face.

"And you are a Miss Potts clone. Jeez, I leave her in a different country and you pop up here and act exactly the same."

"Not exactly the same." She rolled her green eyes and elbowed him before handing him a small note card, reminding him of the selling points, who he needed to address personally, and how he had to remember to bow slightly when meeting another client later that day – "traditions are traditions," she said.

The presentation of the Jericho Missile went well and Tatiana was on her way back to her envoy when her phone buzzed in her pocket.

"Hello?"

"Miss Stane, this is Peters with Information."

"Mister Peters! It must be four in the morning back in Malibu! What is so important that you lose this much sleep?"

"We have just been informed that another terrorist group, known as the Ten Rings, is going to attempt to steal the Jericho Missile from Colonel Rhodes' squadron."

"Do we have any other intel on this particular group?"

"No ma'am. Just this one report."

She sighed and rubbed her temples as Coulson started walking her way. "All right, thank you, Peters. I'll handle it from here. Please get some sleep."

"Yes, ma'am."

Pocketing her phone, she called Rhodey over and told him to keep an extra set of guards on the missile on the trek back to their base. Unknown terrorist groups usually showed up, shot a few tires and then retreated. They were usually no threat.

Tony caught Tatiana before Coulson could open his mouth. "You'll be back in town by my birthday, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mister Stark."

Tony smiled and kissed her forehead and tapped it lightly before getting into his designated Humvee.

She turned to Coulson, who was patiently waiting amongst her assistants. "Mister Coulson, what can I help you with?"

"Please, Miss Stane, we need to talk in private."

She arched an eyebrow but let the man usher her into another Humvee, going in the opposite direction of the others carrying Stark and Rhodes, back to her jet. She knew her assistants were following in their own Humvee.

"Mister Coulson-"

"It's Agent Coulson, actually. Of the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division."

"Well…that's a mouthful."

"We're working on it," pressing forward, Coulson said, "Miss Stane, I need to know everything about your father's connection to the Ten Rings."

"The terrorist agency?" She felt eye twitch. "Excuse me, Agent Coulson, but if you're insinuating my father had anything to do with a tiny terrorist group-"

"I assure you, the Ten Rings are anything but tiny."

"Why haven't I heard of them? Or my large team whom I _pay_ to know about these things?"

"We've blocked their access. Today, someone must have let something slip by." Coulson's lip twitched again with a hint of a smirk. "But, I need to know if you know anything about your father's connection to The Ten Rings."

Her mouth opened and closed for a moment. She had noticed her father growing impatient with Tony's actions.

But her father had always seemed to be a friend to Tony.

She knew, though, that she didn't know her father.

"I…don't know."

Coulson nodded and went to say something to the driver just as she heard the whistling of the missile right before it hit the humvee behind them.

"Get down!" Coulson yelled, grabbing the back of her head and basically shoving Tatiana to the floor of the vehicle. Glass rained down on them as bullets pierced the windows.

The vehicle swerved suddenly as she heard the piercing sound of a bullet penetrating the driver's skull. The humvee swerved again before hitting the side of the road and flipping.

She felt herself hit the seat, the broken window, the door, and finally the ceiling of the metal vehicle before it stopped moving.

Her arm was twisted.

A strange cooling feeling was spreading across her stomach.

But no pain. Not yet.

As black dots started to distort her vision, she saw the barely scathed Coulson crawling toward her. "It will be okay, Miss Stane."

Black.


	2. Chapter 2

"Miss Stane? Miss Stane can you hear me?"

The voice was familiar but she couldn't make herself open her eyes. A quiet moan pulled its way from her mouth.

"Doctors! She's waking up!"

The sound of hard soled shoes against tile met her ears. "Agent Coulson, we'll need you to step outside."

A doctor pried her eyes open eventually and she saw the doctor's smiling face after she had blinded Tatiana again with her small light to check her pupils. "Good morning, Miss Stane. It is about time you woke up."

It took a few more moments before she could actually form a question. "How long was I out?"

"About two weeks. You're very lucky." The doctor paused. "And very hard to kill." She laughed. Her pen made a squeak with each curve of a letter across the papers on her clipboard. The other doctors around her poked and prodded a bit before scribbling on their own clipboards. "But, your vitals are strong and you have been improving quite rapidly. I wouldn't be surprised if you had a bit of Gamma radiation-"

Coulson coughing and shaking his head very curtly twice cut off the rest of her sentence.

"Ah, well, Agent Coulson needs to have a word with you now." The doctor ushered the others out of the room and swiftly shut the door, leaving Tatiana alone with the mild-mannered man in a sharp suit.

"I hope you're feeling better," he said, a trace of a smile on his face.

"Well," she rolled your shoulders as best she could, feeling a little twinge of pain, "I'm not going to complain. Could be worse. Could be dead. Thank you for saving me, by the way."

"No need to thank me," he settled himself on the foot of her bed. "But, I do still need to talk to you about your father."

A sigh pushed its way passed her lips. "Right, that..."

"I understand that this isn't the most opportune moment but it is important."

She nodded, trying to come to terms with the allegations this man was making against her father. "Where's Tony?" she asked, trying to avoid the topic.

Coulson frowned. "Mister Stark was taken by the Ten Rings after his envoy was attacked — Rhodes is currently leading a task force to try and rescue him."

Panic caused her heart to thud painfully against her ribs. "They can't find him?! I've been in a coma for two weeks and he's still missing?"

Her heart rate monitor was beeping loudly and quickly, echoing in the small room. "Miss Stane — that is why we need your help. Mister Stark is important to us too. By helping us, you're helping him. Okay?"

The only way Tatiana knew Coulson was slightly unnerved was the large vein popping out from behind his collar.

She leaned against her pillow and closed her eyes, trying to find a way to connect the dots Coulson was presenting.

There were always secrets with her father. Always forced smiles.

She shut her eyes tighter as if that would help the flow of memories.

Obadiah had always arranged the meetings between Tatiana and the buyers around the world. He recommended some of them as 'personal friends' that didn't always need to be reminded of the responsibilities of owning those types of weapons. _"Trust me, Tatiana. I know more than you think. What you're helping me do will help us both."_

She remembered him pouring over a small stack of papers that looked like empty commission papers when she was about thirteen.

_"What're you doing, Dad?"_

_He looked up at her, that cold anger that she knew so well brewing behind his eyes. "Go back to your room, Tatiana. I'm working."_

"My father did this. Didn't he? He kept on saying that he ran the company better when Tony first came back to the company — I was only three. The shareholders — the board! — oh my god, he's been trying to lock Tony out for years!" The tears came without her noticing, spilling against the gauze wrapping she had around her torso. "Fuck, he didn't have to kill him!"

_"Hey kiddo!" Tony wrapped Tatiana in a hug and kissed her forehead before Pepper pulled him away. _

_"We have a surprise for you." She smiled and ushered her into the back of Happy's chauffeured car. _

_They blindfolded her for a moment or two. "Where are we going? Dad is going to be so mad."_

_She heard Tony sigh. "Well, he should know that his daughter needs to get out and enjoy life. Maybe if he spent any time at all with you-" He was cut off by what seemed like Pepper elbowing him. _

_"We're here," Pepper chirped. _

_Her blindfold was undone and she saw the pier carnival. Obadiah had never let her go — not even once or on her own. "Really?" She looked up and saw the lights of the Ferris wheel sparkling against the purpling sky as the sun set in the background. "I get to go in?" _

_Tony reached across the seat and gently tapped a finger to her forehead, a small (almost sad) smile on his face. "Of course you get to go in."_

"I'll help you," she nodded, coming to a decision.

Obadiah used her. He planted forged sales commissions for Tatiana and made sure **she was** the one that delivered the weapons to the men who were — she was sure now — terrorists.

She was nothing to Obadiah Stane. Just a pawn used for opportunistic gain.

If any of these sales had been leaked, she would have taken the fall. Not her father.

She clenched her teeth. "That son of a bitch." She wiped a hand across her cheeks, trying to get the tears to stop. "Get me up. Get me to a computer."

* * *

It had been another week.

She had no idea where she was. This place had no windows, no indicators of where in the world she might have been. And Coulson made sure she was closely guarded at all times. S.H.E.I.L.D., she had learned, were not people to be trifled with. She liked that.

But, he was a polite host, getting her a room of her own, clothes, and three square meals a day.

'He's more of a father than Obadiah,' she thought bitterly.

Coulson seemed to like talking to her over meals. He liked exchanging information with Tatiana about historical events — a favorite topic of his which made her thankful that her International Relations degree forced her to take quite a few history courses. But, she loved seeing his eyes light up when she talked about Captain America. Tatian had loved the class she took over World War II propaganda and Coulson just made it all the more fascinating.

But, this new found paternal figure couldn't take away from the evidence she found in her father's computer.

After struggling to get past the immensely fortified security system around Stark Industries and then around her father's account itself, she had been able to hack into her father's company computer from where she was and discover his hidden drive — complete with the video of an injured Tony tied to a chair, surrounded by disguised men, threatening to double the price on the hit your father had placed on him.

But, her rifling for information soon came to a standstill.

She sighed and stared at the computer. "Crap."

"Something wrong?" Coulson asked, popping his head in.

"Uh, they finally caught on to me. I'm locked out. If you want any more information, I'll need to get it personally. The files of the sales, all of them, are in my office back at Stark Industries. I can't access them anymore. The countries I met with them in, what was sold — everything is in those files. I managed to get a few but…I'm sorry."

Coulson didn't move for a moment. She noticed he had a habit of doing that when mulling over options — he did that a lot in the cafeteria when deciding between a chicken salad or turkey sandwich for lunch.

"Coulson?"

"You're the only one that can get them?" He asked as he walked over to her desk.

"Yeah, or Tony or dad — but neither one of them actually ever goes into the back filing room. It would look weird if someone else did it. Why?"

"There was a missing person's report filed on you the day of the attack. To the public, it looked like you had been taken with Mister Stark." Coulson sighed and held her shoulders. "You need to know that if you go through with this, you are going to have to lie, and lie well."

"I think I can lie well enough — I learned from the best, remember?" She offered her surrogate spy-dad a smile and pulled herself out of her chair. That task was slightly difficult as one of her arms was still in a sling.

"There is also the slight matter of your appearance."

"Pardon?"

"You look a little too nice to have been held captive by a terrorist cell for three weeks."

She paused for a moment. Herr stitches were gone and bruises had healed — all that was left was her broken arm.

"Right. What do you suggest we do to remedy this problem?"

Coulson's vein protruded for a moment. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yeah."

He nodded once and then made a quick phone call out of the room. He returned a little while later with a familiar red head.

"Agent Romanoff," Tatiana said with a smile. She had met Romanoff on occasion throughout the base. She and Coulson were really the only ones that talked to Tatiana. From what Tatiana knew of her, she was a good person. "Are you here to…" She drifted off as you saw Coulson's usual stoic face. "Ah, you are the remedy to my problem."

Natasha stepped forward. "Are you sure?"

Tatiana attempted to alleviate some of the tension. "Just don't break anything on my face, don't cause permanent damage — and please, if you could avoid putting me back into a coma that would be much appreciated." She laughed.

Natasha managed to smile. "Sit down," she gestured to the nearest chair. As Tatiana sat, she heard her say, "I'm sorry."

She saw stars after that. Her cheek throbbed as the sudden sound of knuckle against bone ripped through the room. Blood bubbled into her mouth as your head lulled to the side.

The chair tilted back as she aimed another punch to the other woman's stomach.

She reached for Tatiana's arm. The cast broke underneath her expertly trained palms and she bent the broken arm back just enough to have Tatiana cry out.

She closed her eyes as she heard Romanoff step away. But a familiar clicking sound brought her attention back.

"Seriously?"

Natasha pursed her lips and stepped forward as Tatiana tried to ready herself. She grabbed one of her shoulders before she felt the searing pain of the knife entering her side.

Her body felt cold once she removed the blade and quickly made three large cuts across Tatiana's thigh, arm, and the top of her foot.

"I'm gonna be sick," she mumbled, vision going blurry.

Natasha leaned into her again before a knee made contact with her chest.

"That'll be enough, Natasha."

She watched as the other redhead stepped back, sliding her knife away. Natasha kept her head down, looking at the floor.

Coulson stepped up to you and gently wiped away the blood that had dribbled out of Tatiana's mouth. "You're going to be okay, I promise."

"Y-yeah. Next time, Natasha gets to kick your ass," She attempted to laugh, feeling the pain in her stomach spread to her arms and legs.

* * *

The doctors healed her enough so she would survive before leaving her in the desert of Afghanistan — again. Apparently, the secret base she had been kept in was underwater near Dubai.

Natasha promised Rhodes would be there within ten minutes. They had been tracking him. She and Coulson has snuck Tatiana a bottle of water and a scarf to cover her face from the sun before their jet _literally_ disappeared.

She collapsed against the sand dune and wound the scarf around her head a few times as the sun continued to beat down.

"Ten minutes? I won't make it three." She stumbled a bit across the sand after she pulled herself back up and sipped on her precious water. "Rhodey needs to hurry the fuck up. Longest twenty minutes ever."

Sand had caked to the blood on her shirt and started to rub against the barely-closed wound on her side. She sat down against another sand dune, against her better judgment and the instinct to not want to fry alive, and sighed. She was medicated out of her mind right now, making her limbs feel heavy and hearing off kilter.

She looked up just as a familiar USAF helicopter landed a few dozen yards away.

A man was sprinting towards her. She simply reached her arms up towards him — ignoring how her arm was bending unnaturally and there was a painful pulling sensation at her side.

"Tatiana," Rhodes wrapped his arms around her and quickly picked her up, "I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here."

"Took you long enough, Rhodey," She laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder, letting herself fall asleep.

* * *

"Ah, another hospital," she muttered as she looked around the large, obviously private hospital room. Her arm had a new cast around it. She managed to pull up the hospital gown and saw the dark line of stitches on her side and the smaller bits across the other cuts. "Fantastic."

Whatever pain relievers they had her on, she was feeling awesome right now.

"Hey! Hey doctor! I'm awaaaaaake! Come see me!" She repeatedly pushed the call button on he bed. She looked around the room as she continued to jam her finger into the red button. The entire back wall was full of flower arrangements.

"Yes? Oh! Miss Stane, you're awake!" The bubbly nurse gently removed her hand from the button, smiled, and then left the room again only to return a few seconds later with a team of doctors. They poked and prodded, same as the others had back with S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Where am I?"

"In Malibu — you're home, Miss Stane," the nurse smiled and patted her head if she was a child.

"Well, then, I need more drugs,"

"What?"

"Also, hand me those two bouquets right there." Tatiana gestured to the two she wanted, waving the nurse on when she first remained still. She came back to her bedside, wheeling the two arrangements over on a cart which usually served food.

"Thank you." The readhead ignored the doctors moving around and plucked the cards from both of the bouquets.

One bouquet, the significantly smaller of the two, was of purple Gladiolas. The card, though left unsigned, easily revealed who the sender was.

_I've been told these were the flowers of the Gladiators. You've earned them. Get well soon. See you Sunday._

"Oh, Coulson," she hummed, a smile on her face. She plucked the other card from the large, obviously expensive, bouquet of solid white rose buds.

_Get well soon.  
-__Obadi__  
-Dad_

"Nice. Really personal. I wonder which secretary of yours sent them." She rubbed her temple with her good hand before turning toward the nurse who continued to hover. "How long was I out?"

"You've been quite a trooper," the nurse said, that same toothy smile coming back, "after Lt. Colonel Rhodes found you, you were treated at a base in Afghanistan and then transported here as soon as possible. You've been in and out for a few days. Your father made sure you had the best treatment and best room."

"Yeah…that's very kind of him. How long is a 'few days'?"

"Three. It's Saturday, Miss Stane."

Tatiana paused, letting the pads of her fingers sweep across the glossy surface of Coulson's card. "When can I leave?"

"The doctors said you could be released to your father on Tuesday afternoon." The smile, if it was possible, got wider.

"Ah, how exciting." The medication was wearing off — probably because the adrenaline was kicking in. Tatiana had less than twelve hours to get those files and then meet Coulson at the prearranged meeting place — the donut shop near Tony's house. "Well, I'm feeling rather tired? Are you guys done?" The team of doctors scribbled the last few things on their charts before walking away, led by the drum major that was the nurse. The nurse happily closed the door behind her. Tatiana quickly found the small suitcase placed near one of the chairs in the room.

At least one of Obadiah's secretary's had remembered — always leave a change of clothes and shoes at the hospital. And she knew the clothes she came in were gone. She got dressed as quickly as she could considering her injuries.

She pulled her long red hair back into a ponytail, fashioned with a rubberband found on the floor.

Thankfully, her Stark Industries ID and wallet were also in the suitcase.

The window. Next move. She had frequently snuck out of her room as a child to go swimming at night when Obadiah had forbid it. She was used to windows. She opened the window and sighed.

"Just my luck. Five stories up." She looked around and saw a tree outside the next room over. After grabbing a sheet from her bed, she climbed onto the window ledge, feeling her stitches stretch in response, and shuffled towards the one branch that she thought would be able to support her weight.

She threw the sheet around the branch and sat down on the ledge as she clutched the fabric, slowly easing her way off the cement.

Drawing her lips into your mouth to avoid the scream she knew would come, she pushed herself off the rest of the way. The sheet did its job. Tatiana slid towards the trunk of the tree, slamming into it. She yelped as she felt her broken arm struggle to keep a hold of the sheet and as her stitches started to come undone.

She wrapped her legs around the tree, feeling for the closest branch. Finding it, she steadied herself against the trunk and gently wrapped the sheet around the trunk for extra leverage as she started to climb down.

Blood had once again seeped through her shirt as her stitches were now completely ripped away. There were pine needles and leaves in her hair now, accompanying the scratches the bark gave her across her cheek.

Upon reaching the ground, she balled the torn sheet up and pushed it behind some bushes before she tried to walk as normally as she could toward the parking lot where the line of taxis was calling her name.

She slipped into one, holding her wallet over the blood stain. "Stark Industries on Howard Stark Memorial Highway."

The cabbie nodded and quickly departed the hospital and weaved through traffic to the destination. Tatiana shoved more than enough money at him before getting out and slinking up to the side door.

Thankfully, the door opened with her ID without setting off an alarm.

Considering how it was nearing eleven at night, the halls were dark except for the occasional emergency light. Even the night janitorial staff had left. That made her sad — she would actually be happy to see them. They were quite kind.

She slipped toward her office, smiling as her ID once again gained a small green light of access.

The office was basically untouched. No dust had collected though. She walked toward her desk and pulled the key from underneath the keyboard and then set off toward the filing room, a bag in hand.

The blood had crusted on her shirt. The wound had largely stopped bleeding, though — but her arm still ached from overexertion.

The door, as she remembered, stuck in its frame when anyone first tried to open it. She leaned down and shoved her shoulder into the door, causing it to open with a terrible squeak.

"Ouch, fuck." She rolled her shoulder to try to relieve the ache before setting toward her department's filing cabinets. The drawers rolled easily and she started pulling the files that she knew were suspicious.

It took longer than she expected and the tears smudged some of the ink.

Thoughts of betrayal pooled in her mind as she continued to stack the evidence against Obadiah. She wiped the tears away as she attempted to remember all the innocent lives lost because of his actions and how Tony was _still_ missing because of what he did.

She zipped the bag and hauled it toward the door. She found a phone in the middle of the hallway and dialed the number Coulson had her memorize.

"Pho's Thai Noodle Café-"

"The egg noodle delivery has come in," she said, remembering what Coulson told her to say.

"Excellent. This will make our customers very happy."

The line went dead.

Her watch blinked back that it was three minutes until midnight. Three minutes until she turned the evidence over to Coulson.

She pulled the bag behind her and toward the front door where she had a taxi waiting to take her to the donut shop where she was supposed to meet Phil. Why a donut shop — she'll never understand.

She plopped down in the back of the cab and waited in silence as she was driven to the destination.

It needed to be done. She was doing the right thing.

But he was still her dad.

And this still sucked.

She paid the driver and hauled the bag into the twenty-four hour donut shop.

A familiar man sat at the corner table.

"Hello Coulson,"

He smiled and offered her a dozen of your favorite donut. "Hello, Tatiana." He took the bag from her hand but paused when he saw the shiny red stain on her shirt. "Come with me."

"But-"

"Just do it."

She didn't argue.

Coulson led her to an inconspicuous car in the unlit part of the parking lot before all but shoving her into the backseat. Another person was there, just as confused as she was.

"Fix her stitches." Coulson slid into the front seat and started to drive away.

The man beside her shrugged and pulled medical equipment from a compartment underneath his chair. He pulled up her shirt and quickly set to work. And, with all she'd been through, she didn't even squirm.

"Tatiana, I hate to ask this of you, but I'm going to need you to sort through the rest of the sales your father had a hand in. I'll meet with you again in six months. You know the number."

She nodded. She knew there was no going back, might as well enjoy the ride.

The car pulled to a stop in front of her house after the passenger handed her a clean shirt. "I'm not even going to ask how you know where I live. Thanks for the ride." She gently squeezed Coulson's shoulder before thanking his passenger and she walked up the familiar stairs. She found her spare key under the little fox figurine she had perched near her lawn chair.

She sighed as the scent of her leather furniture and old books met her nose before she set her box of donuts on the nearest table.

"Ah, home already?"

"Dad?"


End file.
